


Restart

by SilverStarlet



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverStarlet/pseuds/SilverStarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond has been injured in action. Although this was not the first time, M has insisted than Bond remain in MI6 building until he has recovered. For once, Bond agreed. He has taken up residence in Q branch much to Q's dismay. The pair do not get along very well under such close circumstances. This is how it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rough Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction in a while. I'm a little rusty.

Restart

“We have worked together before, Q.” Bond mumbles after having his hand slapped away from a piece of equipment. Q looks at Bond in disbelief.

“You’ve never been a permanent fixture in Q-branch before, 007.” Q makes a move towards the kettle. This will be his eighth cup of the morning.

“I’m not a permanent fixture. I’ll be gone in a week.” Bond states joining Q and popping a teabag in both their mugs.

Q heartily wishes this was true. Bond had only been working alongside him for three days and the agent had already messed everything, and Q meant everything, around. He’d slept with two members of Q-branch before the first day was out. He’d broken into Q’s office on the morning of the second. He’d found Q’s personal project papers and _doodled_ all over them before Q even got in. The entirety of Q branch had all of a sudden stopped listening to his commands after Bond made the ‘observation’ that Q’s voice raised an octave anytime he was angry. They ignored him simply to hear this change. It was infuriating.

“Please, 007, behave today. I barely slept last night. I was drawing up new diagrams…” Q rolls his neck to release some tension.

“You are a computer geek…” Bond started.

“Genius.” Q corrected.

“And you still draw your tech by hand.” Bond finished making the tea. The mug was snatched off the counter almost before he’d finished pouring the milk.

“It’s easier for me. It’s how I started.” Q shrugged. “I didn’t have my own computer until I was 16.”

James raised both his eyebrows. He looked the younger man up and down briefly. He’d once remarked on how young Q was but he’d never really asked. He knew better than to ask. It’d only make him feel older.

“Oh, so you’ve learned all this in the past year?” The agent gestured around Q-branch. Q laughed rather forcefully. Once.

“You crack me up, 007.” He snapped sarcastically. He takes his tea back to his station and the second he arrives 009 calls. Headset on, Q gets to work teaching 009 how to use an infuriatingly _simple_ piece of weaponry.

Bond leans against the wall and drinks heavily from his mug whilst chuckling. Bond was ever aware that a little tension between work-mates was always a good thing. Tension breeds creativity. However, they must be careful that they don’t overstep the line into sheer frustration. Problem with that is, one person can be driven to distraction whilst the other is mildly peeved. This was most definitely happening in Bond and Q’s case.

 

Q went home early that night. M could forgive him, surely, as he knew he wasn’t really functioning on all pistons. Sheer exhaustion and frustration had gotten to him and all he’d wanted to do from 9 am was go home, play violin and sleep. After a long shower he picked up his violin. His fingers felt less graceful than normal against the strings but that didn’t stop him. Rough notes, bad bowing but regardless, it was with sheer relief he played. After half an hour of playing he already felt a much improved man. He stood up, very much ready to go to bed extremely early when he heard the doorbell. He almost screamed. Some nights, you just don’t want company, right? He opens the door and is greeted by a roughed up MI6 agent.

“Bond?” Q sighs, waiting for a good excuse for the interrupted solitary evening.

“Can I crash here? My place is a little… destroyed.” Bond gestured to his dirty, debris covered suit. Q gave him a perfunctory look over. Once he had allowed his brain a bit of processing time his eyes opened wider.

“Shit… That’s where he took that bomb…” Q gaped.

 

 


	2. Annoyance Takes It's Toll

Chapter Two

Bond runs fingers through his messy, slightly too long for old school regulation, hair. He shrugs at Q.

“You weren’t to know, Q. Now,” He steps through the door pushing the bewildered man aside. “Where’s the bathroom?” Q places his hand firmly on Bond’s shoulder, forcing the man to stop. He saw by the way Bond looked that the agent didn’t think he was overstepping boundaries by demanding to stay. Repent for your sins, Q thinks to himself, you accidentally sent an angry agent round with a bomb after-all.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Q stutters, disbelieving that 009 would have used such force. 007 and 009 were constantly in a childish battle for dominance. In recent weeks it had gotten a little out of hand but this was the worst he’d seen. Bond just shakes his head.   
“I repeat, you weren’t to know. And don’t tell anyone else for that matter. It’s between me and him.” He warns. Q’s hand curls into a fist on Bond’s shoulder.

“I have to tell headquarters. This is too far. Using my equipment against each other!” He snaps. He knows fine well he’ll do what Bond says but only after Bond has grovelled. A lot. The paperwork would be unthinkable anyway.

“I’m staying, right? I’ll crash on the couch. But first I need a shower.” Bond states.

“Of course you can stay,” Q speaks through gritted teeth. “But behave yourself.” He warns, pointer finger right in Bond’s face.

“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me today. I’m wounded.” Bond mocks peeling himself away from his quartermaster and quickly finding the bathroom. Q slams the front door shut and sighs loudly. His first instinct is to grab his jacket and leave 007 to his own devices but Q restrained himself. He shouldn’t have to change his plans to suit anyone, he tells himself.

 

He heads to his bedroom, into a pair of pajama trousers and into his bed. Cover over his head he sighs again, this time with contentment. He was just getting comfortable when Bond comes crashing into his bedroom and starts raiding around in his chest of drawers. Q peeks out from his covers. He growls angrily.

“Underwear.” Bond says peeling a pair out from the top drawer and sliding them on.

“Get out. Now.” Q says, low. Dangerous.

“Alright, alright.” Bond raised his hands above his head. “I do need a blanket though.” He says, almost warily. Q actually laughs at that tone. In his annoyance at Bond, he’d forgotten that a) he should really be looking after his guest and b) he actually likes Bond. They might not work well together but as people outside of work they actually got on superbly.

“Drawer under my bed,” Q points, refusing to get out of his warm covers regardless. Bond does as he’s told. “Are you okay?” He finally asks.

“I’m fine, Q.” Bond laughs. “I’m more resilient than you know.” Q smiles and closes his eyes. Suddenly he’s forced to snap them back open. A gunshot and heavy footsteps make him jump out of bed and behind the half-naked agent.

“This is just 009 playing,” says an unsure Bond “It has to be…”


	3. Mistakes

Bond places a hand on Q’s hip behind him in attempt to keep him steady. Q’s hand finds Bond’s and cups it tightly, frightened. Q wasn’t squeamish about gunfire normally but this was his _home._ His safe haven.

“This isn’t happening.” Q whispers. Bond hushes the younger man. The footsteps become louder and the bedroom door is flung open hard.

“Where are you?” A chirpy, sing-song voice calls and there’s a fumble for the light-switch. Q peels himself away from Bond.

“Oh for fuck sake, Belinda!” Bond turns to Q and raises his arms in a gesture that could either mean ‘what?’ or ‘you have got to be kidding me!’.

“Bond, this is my ex-girlfriend Belinda.” Q explains whilst rubbing his temples. “Belinda this is _our_ colleague, James Bond.”

“But that’s 008!” Bond yells. Q looks at the older man warningly. Belinda is definitely drunk. Q and Belinda had broken up on amicable enough terms but the relationship had been a little obsessive on Belinda’s part.

“Okay, let’s say I’m okay with the fact our Quartermaster was dating an agent. Which, I’m not, by the way…”

“We’ve all made mistakes…” Q mumbles under his breath.

“That still doesn’t give you the right to come shooting in here!” Belinda looks at Bond dangerously.

“If Q hadn’t changed the locks and referred me onto a _colleague_ of his then I wouldn’t have to shoot into the house to have a conversation with him.” She slurred. A lot. Bond had already heard enough.

“Come on,” He manhandles Belinda out of the house which turns out to be a lot easier than normal. Q is very thankful that alcohol has this effect on Belinda or this may have become much more gruesome than it had really needed to.

 

Q sits back on his bed and pulls his knees up to his chest. Why did he have to pick people like this? It’s not just girlfriends and boyfriends either. It was everyone, anyone, he was associated with. People that would shoot into his house late at night or hack his computer because they think it was fun. Dangerous people. The danger meant that he needs protected. By who? Someone equally dangerous. It was a vicious cycle.

Q’s thought process was interrupted by the sound of heavy furniture moving. Through the open bedroom door he sees his favourite armchair being used as a make-shift guard to the now functionless front door. He groans loudly. Bond makes his way back into the bedroom and sees Q all curled up and looking defenceless.

“You sure know how to pick them, eh?” Bond forces a small smile. “Let me help you out the next time you date an agent, yeah?”

“I am _not_ dating an agent again. Ever.” Q mumbles pressing his head into his knees. Bond sits beside the brunette and warily puts a hand on his shoulder. Q surprisingly leans into the touch.

“You can help me pick the next person I date though.” He says looking at Bond.

“Just god, don’t let it be me.” Bond jokes removing his hand as though scalded.


	4. Human After All

Q slept well that night. For this there was two reasons. Bond had decided to crash at his place after-all _and_ he'd slept on Q's bedroom floor. When Q awoke he admired the fact that Bond had managed to sleep on the rough, carpeted floor all night. 

"I didn't sleep through any more break-ins did I?" Q said voice gravely from sleep. Bond stirred and looked at Q through scrunched up eyes. 

"Because you'd have slept through them because of how safe I make you feel?" The older man quipped. Q rolled his eyes. How was it possible to be that sarcastic when just awake? Although, he wasn't much better himself.

"Yes, I feel safe with a gun-bearing psychopath sleeping in my bedroom." He replied. Bond pulled himself into a reclined position. 

"Didn't stop you from begging me to stay here." A raised eyebrow and curled lip were Bond's only response this time. 

Q finally manages to get up. As he does, Bond steals his bed. He almost protests, almost being the operative word. If Bond hadn't snuggled under the duvet like a cold child he might have found it repulsive. In all honesty, it was cute. 

After making his customary earl-grey and a black coffee for Bond, he returned to the bedroom. He handed the sleepy agent his coffee and watched as the _grown man_ curls up around it. 

"It's cold." Bond says, noticing Q's amused expression.  Q nods and smiles. 

"You know, this is going to help us work together." Q gestures to Bond's posture. 

"How do you figure that?" Bond reluctantly asks. 

"Well, I now have proof that you are human." Q grins. 

"Huh, I wouldn't be so sure about that." Bond smirks. 

* * *

 

"Are you kidding me, Tanner? Please tell me you are kidding me!" Q gestures to a design plan. Sent for the 'secret' research and development lab in Scotland . Top secret and all that. 

"I'm afraid not. This isn't in my normal job description, either. I assure you that you are recieving special treatment." Q nods looking down at the plans. 

"Do we _have_ to build a miniaturised bomb?" Q groans. 

"It's not the fact it's miniaturised that bothers you." Tanner has his hand on his hip now, impatient. 

"No, it's the fact it has to fit into a pen." Q admits. Bond sneaks up behind the pair.

"Thought you said exploding pens were not the done thing anymore, Q." Bond gives a shark toothed grin. 

"Remember that thing I said earlier? I take it back. I will never be able to  tolerate you at work." The laughter that ensued came from both of them. Maybe Q was right after-all. 


	5. Risky Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a short (lol) break I have returned with more....

 

Getting called into the office at 6 am was anyone's idea of hell. For a sleep lover like Q the pain was unbearable.

"O07 shouldn't have called you," stated M firmly. "This matter does not involve you."

"He didn't call me, sir. Miss Moneypenny did." M glared at his personal assistant.

"Putting him out to pasture?" Q spat drily.

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, Q."

"How would you describe flying James of to Buenos Aires to a recovery hotel, which also happens to house a retirement home."

"I would refrain from being so casual with your colleague. First name basis? An absolute no-go." Q looks up at Bond who has a smirk on his face.

Q is looking and feeling more uneasy by the moment. He doesn't like challenging authority but this man was just trying to ruin MI6. In Q's not so humble opinion. M continues his disapproving speech.

"It is not your position to question..."

"No, it's everyone's responsibility to make sure MI6 runs as smoothly as possible."

"I cannot fault your logic there, Q, but still..."

"And it's sure as hell not going to run well without it's best double-0 and it's Quartermaster." All eyes were fixed on Q.

"You are not suggesting you would leave if 007 were no longer present?"

"007 is vital to my current work which will revolutionise the tech side of our business - which heavens knows is required."

"Vital? How?" M almost snorts as he speaks.

"Something Bond once said to me unfortunately rings true I do not know when a bullet is more effective than a tech attack. I need our most experienced agent to help me build arround that. Make the attacks more precise. Less time wasted, optimum results." M was almost slack-jawed at Q's brusqueness. Almost. 

"How long do you..."

"Two years. Minimum."

M paces for a few moments. Q has started to tap his foot by the time M turns back to face them.

"I will reconsider. And only because I wasn't wholeheartedly behind the idea."

"Yes, sir." Bond and Q say in unison. Q visibly relaxes.

"And Q, if you ever cut me off mid-sentence again I will fire you. On the spot." An empty threat, Q hoped.

"Understood, sir." Q nodded and turned on his heels to leave. He certainly wasn't sticking around here when he wasn't due in until ten in the morning. Q tries to convince himself that he was just exhausted but really he didn't want to stick around in case M changed his mind. 


	6. Chapter 6

Q worked hard when he finally started his shift that day perfecting the “J-bomb”. It was a simple enough task and it wasn't enough to take up all his attention. Bond had miraculously disappeared from Q branch from the day and Q couldn't help but wonder why. After the incident with M, Q had went home for a spot of sleep and when he woke Bond wasn't there. This in itself wasn't strange but after coming into work and not finding him in any of his usual places was…worrying.

During lunch Q decided to ask M a question and in person. He couldn't believe that he was about to do this but he felt compelled. It was a strange feeling.

“You haven’t sent him off have you?” Q asked the second he got past Moneypenny and into M’s office. A tough feat but worth it. M looked up from some papers.

“No.” M waved his hand to get Q to leave. Q did. There was no point in remaining. M wouldn’t have lied. He had no reason.

* * *

 

Q tried his best to immerse himself in his work that afternoon.

It’s almost dinner time when Q finally gets his hands on Bond. He looks tense. Shoulders drawn up towards his neck.

“I can't believe you did that.” Q knows exactly what Bond is talking about in an instant for some reason.

“You seemed to be handling it fine at the time!”

“You could have been fired, Q!” Bond was actually yelling at the young man before him. It wasn't the first time Q had been yelled at by the older man but it was the only time he’d felt like Bond really meant it.

 “Do you seriously think that I did all that just for you?!” Q’s hands were in balls by his sides. Q couldn’t believe the older man was mad at him for saving his job. He almost wished that he hadn't. Almost.

Bond was actually stunned quiet for a split second.

“You didn't do it just for me?” Q stood searching for the word that best described the emotion behind those words. Wounded. Bond sounded wounded. Q actually laughed.

“God, I’m not an idiot, Bond. I did what was best for the company. Queen and country.” Q gestured to the Bulldog statuette that had taken up residence on his desk. A constant reminder of what they were working for.

 “Oh.” Still wounded. Was there more? Did Q sense more? He had to ask.

“Bond, I like you. I wouldn't risk my job for you. Would you risk yours?” Q asks begging his voice to keep steady.

 “I'd risk my life.” Bond said straight faced. Q’s flailing stopped.

“I'd risk my everything.” Q said quietly. He takes a few deep breaths.

“That’s what friends are for.” Bond smiled softly. Q nodded.

"Friends." He smiled back widely. His chest ached. It was a feeling to be considered at a later date.


End file.
